Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 300

Sylvia had never set foot in a bar before. To avoid sticking out like a sore thumb, she had done her homework online and learned how to do a smoky eye makeup. She also bought herself an outfit that was apparently the go-to choice for a night out—a halter top paired with a pleated mini skirt. According to the internet, this was the best-selling and most common outfit for a club-hopping girl.

Dressed to blend in, Sylvia hailed a cab and headed to the bar. She hoped her attire wouldn't attract too much attention or make her seem out of place.

As soon as she stepped out of the cab, however, all eyes were on her. She paused, momentarily bewildered. Was this outfit outdated? She'd heard that the people frequenting bars were fashion-savvy. Had she somehow missed the mark?

But as she walked toward the entrance, the catcalls and whistles made it clear why she was being watched. Sylvia recalled the guide she'd read about visiting a bar for the first time: Rule number one was not to look like a newbie, or else you might become a target.

Her goal was to keep a low profile, so she shot a sharp glare at the whistlers and turned on her heel, striding away. Rule number two was to act tough. Most guys would back off if they thought you were hard to get.

Sure enough, most of them shrugged and lost interest. Sylvia let out a quiet sigh of relief and headed for the bar.

Meanwhile, in the parking lot, Chris glanced at his watch. "We should head inside. Your client should be here soon, and don't worry, as the boss, I've made sure everything's set up to cater to your client's tastes."

Rupert nodded, stubbing out his cigarette, ready to exit the car. Suddenly, Chris grabbed his arm, his gaze fixed on a figure walking past the hood of the car.

"Is that... your niece?"

The girl was a sight to behold, a magnet for the eyes. Dressed in a cowgirl-inspired outfit, her long wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes held a mischievous glint. Against the backdrop of the club's neon lights, she seemed almost ethereal—a bewitching fairy.

Even with Rupert beside him, Chris couldn't help but stare.

"Nice view?" Rupert's voice was as cool as ice.